


The Woes of Being A Badass

by MCK25



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abduction, Alien Clowns, Aliens, Boots - Freeform, Brushes, Clowns, Cock Tickling, Comedy, Kidnapping, Leather, Leather Jackets, M/M, Machine Tickle Torture, Milking, Non-Consensual Tickling, Prison Scenario, Tickle torture, Tickling, leather boots, leather pants, penis tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCK25/pseuds/MCK25
Summary: Gladio realizes he should probably never keep wearing leather 24/7, but who's gonna stop him?
Relationships: None
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Woes of Being A Badass

“FUCKING LET ME GO YOU ASSHOLES!”

Gladio screams in the back of a makeshift giant black car, his entire body encased in extremely tight cloth. A blindfold covered his eyes, as the assailants overtook him while he was merely exploring a nearby desert. He has no idea what they want or what they’re up to. 

To even explore the desert in all this leather just to feel like a boss too. Leather jacket, black pants and feeling ever so lazy, big shiny black boots without socks. He’d merely begun breaking a sweat just being out there, but this was going to make him like a steamed vegetable.

The scalding merciless sun dampened his senses to the marauders that blindfolded him and wrapped him and now he’s trying to avoid getting a concussion in a… vehicle is all he could deem. He didn’t even get to have a feel at what the thing(s) are abducting him out of nowhere. Noctis is going to worry for sure.

Trying to reach for one of his pocket knives hidden in a boot, he was unsuccessful. Turns were unpredictable and he ended up flying up and down and diagonally. 

“When I get out of this-” A knife flies out of his hand. He goes for the other, only to be thrown around again like a rag doll. Both weapons fly off into unseen large cracks in the vehicle, most likely falling out and abandoned on whatever road/terrain they were on.

He struggles to look for one of the metal walls to gain footing, like a spider maneuvering her web to sense for nearby prey. 

Through one of the speakers in the vehicle, gurgling was heard. Gladio uses this as an opportunity to ask who it was and what they want with him. He was about to begin ranting, sweat starting to drip aimlessly from his dark brown locks. 

If tattoos could speak, they’d be begging for an A/C unit right about now.

“GLURGLE AH-MATCHLAMA FOOM.” 

The sound of such a voice was almost nasally, maybe extraterrestrial. This didn’t unnerve Gladio, as his adventures made him meet countless people and monsters he’d never been aware of. That isn’t to say he wasn’t going to put up a fight, maybe a screaming contest. He maintains footing with one leg to a wall and another leg on the floor.

“MLAM-ACHKMIOPLA.” The disgusting voice piped in. 

Aliens weren’t anything new to him. About to begin talking, the gravity begins to take a couple of spins, making him spin over and over. A slight crash and Gladio is knocked onto the metallic floor once more.

Driving skills were on par with that of a squirrel, he concludes hoping he doesn’t see stars under said blindfold. 

Now he knew he was hot to begin with, the most private secret he’s ever kept about himself since he last looked himself in the mirror. His muscles were well toned, legs that could squeeze and crush a watermelon, tattoos enveloping his arms accentuating his overall appearance. The mohawk-like hairstyle.

He was gorgeous, but he’d never let anyone find out he’d see that about himself.

But this situation is ridiculous. The leather is making his skin feel like a superheated sauna, like buckets upon buckets of sweat would pour out and make any man fall in love with his appearance… make the girls swoon too.

Not even an ounce of strength could break through whatever he was restrained in. Moving his hands a little, they feel clothlike but smooth and almost… liquid in a sense. This can’t be, he begs to whatever being there is this just can’t be the one thing he can’t break out of.

A magic coat restraint had kept him from escaping. That explains why he couldn’t escape with just his strength alone. The ride only got a little bumpier and for the most unnerving part made a complete skidding stop, sending the poor man flying to the wall behind the driver's seat. He couldn’t feel any of the screws and bolts with his clothes but they were going to leave holes.

He left a dent in the wall, but he needed to react and act fast. Maybe a sneak attack with just his legs, that will do the trick. Gladio stands in a position ready to strike the second the doors opened. 

A clunk was made, both steel doors opening. A running start, Gladio makes a daring move hoping to knock out his captors and find some sort of communication beacon to signal his friends. 

The most simple plan and even that was thwarted. Preparing a roundhouse kick to the neck of the being in front of him, a flash of purple stunned him in mid-air. His back was to the culprit, immobilization 100%.

He was slowly hoisted out of his trap, eyes going towards the figures that were…

Giant marshmallows. Not even JUST marshmallows, but they had pointed hats with small black pom poms on the tips. They turned around, revealing their entire front appearance, yet neither moved their legs. They floated with him taking him somewhere but he doesn’t know where or why.

They had gloved hands and frillish garments to their necks, hands and feet. Giant black shoes, black markings, lipstick…

“What do you jesters want!” He demands, hoping communication was something of help. They looked at him with eyes squinted closed, big black round noses nore frowning mouths wavering at the thought at what he just said.

The surroundings were that of a deep cave, visibility just ample enough for him to get a view of the… pitch black darkness and stalactites and stalagmites. Not even the goddamn entrance as to where they even entered to begin with. The bengs began scratching their chins, looking behind Gladio. 

He was nervous, seeing as jesters were unpredictable. They were for entertainment purposes yes, but he’s never seen the likes of these beings before. Not even in his castle home.

They continue through a passage, now chrome like. They go in, shifting both of their hands to send him into one of the open rooms. The grasp on him was still too strong for Gladio to do anything, let alone attempt kicking and screaming in hopes of showing the anger and power he can muster up,

Not to mention his sweat soaked leather coat and pants. His feet itch terribly with sweat, and now he was sure fungi were going to grow between his toes and under the toenails. That didn’t bother him however. The place he was put in yes. It looked like a containment chamber, a large glass mirror rectangular and adjacent to his right.

His arms were hoisted straight up over his head, feeling strong metal clamps grapple his wrists and upper arms. If any flowers were there they would wither and explode at the stench his armpits gave.

So he didn’t like to bathe for a little while big whoop.

His legs were put into a rather… unique and odd position. Each leg was hoisted up diagonally on either side, the soles of his boots facing up in an awkward position. A snap of one of the clowns fingers and the awful sensation that was beginning to collide in his legs subsided. It’s like they got rid of the numbing sensation, preventing it from happening too.

His ankles were clamped down, leaving his bum a little itchy and facing down. If he wanted to use the bathroom in said position he could have done it, especially in such an odd position. Never hurts to try new things.

The clown on the left of Gladio floated back out the door. A light turns on from the window. More metal clamps are placed on top of his knees and two rectangular little tables popped out to hoist the rest of his ass.

Unlike the vehicle he was previously in, this place was about the same in terms of temperature, and he wants to itch at his back and legs from the unnecessary sweat he accumulated.

“GLARHFFDJKFV SDIDIDHDK FORHUOOIMAJ!” The speaker shouted into the room. From what Gladio could make out, there were at least two microphones shooting high into the air for ample talking. Said clown was at the height of the microphone. It sputtered nonsense and tapped the thing a few times to make sure it was working.

The one with the hunk turned its head nodding vigorously, knowing full well that’s how it’s supposed to work.

“What is it that you want from me? I have the right mind to keep my mouth shut about any secrets you think I might know. You better hope my friends don’t find me, they’ll end you!” 

Truth be told, Gladio isn’t lying about his companions or the roughness in his voice. Not that he liked using it. Prompto always told him whenever they rescued small children his tattoos and face scared them off. Regardless he’d used it to his advantage sometimes to get anything from anywhere if people thought he was that scary.

The white jester spins its head around, causing a few cracks to fill the air. ‘Just what are they and where did they come from?’ Gladio thinks, unsure if they want anything from his person.

Said being takes a hand out and like a puff of air comes out sharp scissors. 

He’d heard about organ harvesting but without even one teency weency bit of explanation as to why they wanted him of all people… Oh but of course he was royalty after all. Probably wanted to make a profit from his heart, but he’d go down kicking and screaming.

It was then the thing began to smile down at him, like it just read Gladi’s mind. It probably did have such a power if telekinesis was one of them. It brought its arm up, like it was about to cut off a vein in one of his arms.

Gladio could only growl, eyes now blinded by the one strong light bouncing off of said scissors. “Heeeeee heehee hee hee hee hee hee~!” It hummed joyfully. 

A line of red came out of the scissors tips, and it moved the thing around like it was a sword. It made little figures in the air like a mouse, a star and little circles. Gladio could feel his anxiety building, unsure if it was casting a spell to make him become a giant blob like themselves. Or to assimilate more of these assholes.

He thought about it, and being in all white was a rather uncomfortable idea. Maybe to be in the dessert you’d be a living mirror but nothing else. If you wanna get it dirty right away when you go to dinner.

Black will forever be his style, he concluded that with Noctis and friends.

The clown made a giant X mark in his direction, and poof the item went away. With jazz hands the jester shook them high and low, giggling to himself. It bounces away in the direction of the only open door. 

“H-Hey come back here! Just what did you…” He trails off, feeling breezy lines come forth. On his jacket it was sliced on the shoulder blades but it just thankfully missed his head. A few more appeared on it and off came the parcel, down to the linoleum floor in tattered pieces. Gladio gasped, his arms and torso now revealed in the semi hot air.

His pants were next, getting cut in the direction beginning down at the waist where his ass met the table. It went in a sort of circular motion, unveiling his shaven glorious legs. He’d never get tattoos around there, seeing as he’d prefer to boast his biceps and pecs.

Which nowadays he really needed to cut out. Ladies would get the wrong idea, and his heart is already taken to one of his friends but he’d never admit it. He doesn’t know if they like him back or not.

Ungracefully did those fall down as well, leaving him only in his underwear adorned with the title “Big Cup Noodle” with said noodle cups all over it. Not even briefs, only old fashioned tighty whitey’s. Noctis gave them to him for his birthday and who was he to say no with noodles on anything?

The air felt surprisingly good on his legs and chest but the sweating persisted. It’s like he took a trip to the showers but never brought the towel.

He blushed furiously, now ready to break out of these restraints with pure rage and will power. 

To his left and right, his size 18 leather boots pop off his feet unceremoniously and drop down to the sides of the table. He cracks knuckles in his toes, adoring the freedom his puppies were gasping for the entire time.

The one door the clown went out of materialized away, leaving there to be no form of communication to the outside world but the window over to his left. Which is moving right to the front… And the walls are beginning to close in. There weren’t any spikes or large domes that could crush someone in milliseconds.

It was semi slow, until the window was just a couple of feet towards Gladio’s bulk body. He attempted to bring the whole table with him to break the glass they were in, but the table was fixed with some form of concrete and steel.

“Nude photo’s won’t get you anywhere in the world you know. Especially if it isn’t of yourself!” He snarls at them thinking it could do something. He got a reaction by the looks of it, they brought their hands up over their mouths like women. Some new gossip they must have learned. Gladio’s anger only grew at this.

Out of nowhere, more lights came on. A brilliant white enveloped the room. His clothes were scooped up by a robotic machine with a broom and placed into some sort of container.

“YOU’D BETTER COUGH UP THE MONEY FOR THAT TOO, THAT SHIT DOESN’T COME CHEAP!” His screaming and bickering at them did little to no good. Another set of clamps locked down on his elbows, right where the spot doctors drain blood for yearly check ups.

Gladio was going to begin his rant about whatever bad thing they were going to start to do to him, his flailing making his dong fly around in there like a bird in a net.

They begin conversing with each other, microphones on mute. They merely continued their conversation behind the glass and they cracked their fingers, showing them at Gladio in a mocking gesture. They wiggle their fingers in the air and Gladio’s right eye twitches. He feels the room begin to rumble.

Another joy ride he believes. His persistent sweating continues much to his dismay, and for no sensible reason his nipples were becoming… aroused. Now he knew he was nowhere near a cold spot but they had no reason to be like that.

At least being stuck in leather and getting a cool breeze, he’ll give them that.

Out of the ceiling opens a few hatches, bringing down robotic arms with feathers adhered to the tips. Gladio gulped loudly to himself. If he thinks this is what he’s for today, he’s the unluckiest man in the world.

They weren’t flimsy looking ones either but not sharp to the point where they could prick skin.

Spinning in the air they dance in circles around Gladios’, making him become a tad more nervous than usual. He was beginning to think getting other forms of torture would be far more… bearable. Make him wear pink all over, pick out all of his teeth at the dentists office… make him eat a squirrel.

Three feathers on each robot arm come to dance and tickle Gladio’s forearm, and he knew he was a goner. He holds in muffled giggles, feeling the gritty and light tips and its barrage of mini feathers now attacking. They make a little drum beat on his skin, trying to see if anything got him to crack.

‘Don’t you come any closer.’ He mentally warned, trying not to laugh. They cascaded down into his armpits, “G-Gyahaahaahaha!” Gladio attempted to wiggle and worm away from the arms but he was clamped down good.

Like in a police station, the view to the other room went black. Dammit he moans internally, feeling his armpits become scratched and itchy. Out of all the ideas from Noctis to completely shave his body so no trace DNA would be left anywhere, this one was the worst.

The poor man didn’t shed that much to begin with.

They were like holes without the long dark brown hair. With little black specs. One of the arms began to tickle and tease at Gladio’s chiseled face, ears and neck. He giggled uncontrollably when feathers tickled his ears. “Nahahahhaahahaahaaa! C-Cuahahahahha ihihihihihit ouhwhaahahahahat!” 

Shaking the arms away was of no use, making the one targeting his left armpit feel the onslaught of the feathers. “NohahahahaahahahahaHAAHAaha thehiihihihihehehere!” The sweat on his body begins to make his condition in the matter worse.

Both arms come together and their feathers combine into what looks like a long makeshift feather duster. Or a tentacle to be more accurate. A whirring sound made it into the air, and Gladio didn’t prepare.

They spun and tickled and danced inside the caverns, making him jump and curl his fingers and toes. “WhaahahahaHAHAHAHAHAA w-WHAAHAIHAHAAHT!” Somehow pleading wasn’t going to get their attention, especially since they were the ones in charge. And as far as bargaining went, Gladio left his wallet back in his own car, seeing as he wasn’t going to need it to cook himself in the hottest desert imaginable.

“AhahahaaHAHAAHAHahAHAHAHahaHAHAA St-STOHAAHAHAAHAHAP!” Like drills, they wanted to dig and dig and brush at every little thing there was to his armpits. Going in between each little hairs in the smelly areas. He doesn’t remember being so ticklish, not even the tattoo’s tickled when he got them.

This went on for about three and a half minutes, until the tentacles stopped their onslaught, giving their victim a breather. Perspiration covered his face, but Gladio knew he needed to be strong. If they still wanted his organs or the security entrance to his King’s castle, he still wouldn’t talk.

A surprise turn of events, both arms only dropped down marginally. He makes a semi disgusted face, unsure where they were about to-

“GYAHAAHhahahahaah nohahahahahaah!” They began twirling again over his pecs and sleeping nipples. That was a spot he’d never think would be so sensitive but he’d have to blame the nipple parts.

They focused primarily on said little giants that have now grown into giant chocolate chips. Off they went, brushing and polishing the little buggers. “WOAHahhahahahaHAAHAHahah!” Gladio tried to not scream at such tickling, but it just felt so unbearable, ANY sound would have done!

Only 2 minutes for these precious jewels and they look like they could pierce a can of tuna. 

This wasn’t looking good. He breathes heavily trying to find a way out of this uncomfortable mess, to get away from… the torture jesters. It’s like the feather brushes have done their job and began going down farther inward on Gladio’s body. He made little biting gestures towards them, as they remained near his face but just a few inches of his face.

Out of nowhere a monitor popped down from the ceiling. It activated, with what looked like a smiley face logo with the tongue primarily making the majority of the screen.

It listed Gladio’s name on there and by the looks of it a chart of various body parts and the exact infrared image of his body. 2 of them, one was the infrared the other was normal, like an outline but with parameters focusing on… his spots.

He tried desperately to flail his muscular biceps within the machine’s hold. It did little good, only shaking the contraption just slightly.

The computer pinged, showing the words ‘RIBS AND ABDOMEN’ in bold letters. Like before the feathers began their dirty work once more, both on either sides of Gladio’s rib cage. They teased and scratched at various ribs, one even going into the spinning paint brush early.

“Y-You AHAaharen’t AHAHahaa gonna fiHIHIind anYTHIhEEHEEng thehehehere!” He tries to deny the robot of any goal to find out about his abdomen. In the past, mere little tickle fights between him and Noctis were always a thing, considering it was part of their training to be ready for sneak attacks.

Gladio always reigned supreme, destroying said boy with armpit tickling and prodding. He sneezed once during another attack and down he was, a blubbering laughing mess with hands scratching and poking at his ribs.

It was confirmed regardless, his snickering fits from the feathers going over his ribs and spaces between said bones being extremely sensitive. 

The monitor beeped its results, painting the ribs a rather orange red. The armpits were about a tad darker tinge of red. He was focusing on the wrong thing, the feathers going forth at his sides. His laugh on the verge of a guffaw there.

“GyaAHAHAAHAHAA, CAHAU-AHAAUT IHEEHehIHEEET OUwhaahahAHAHAt!” He begs. Unheard, the drills of feathers going after the soft flesh around his abdomen was one of the death spots to him. The ribs were a close second, considering it was hard to breathe every time he tried going between a breath and laughing.

Must be the one spot that didn’t have bone he wasn’t as protected from. He wriggles around in the table only to have one drill dig deep into one end and the result making it do the same on another.

5 minutes total on just those areas. A light bulb went off on the screen. Gladio wanted to believe it was the finished bell. To just let him off easy and he could be on his merry way. Proven wrong, the machine creates a circular outline, right at the base of his stomach.

Without warning, a spinning feather brush goes in for the kill of Gladio’s belly button, the dark shadow like an invitation to explore.

“n-NYAHAHAANHAAHAHAA OhoohOFFFOFOHOHHHOOOOOOHHO!” If it was any sharper the tool would go right through his inner flesh and go for the… from what he remembered his bladder or just muscle over the bladder.

He doesn’t even remember the time of day he left for his little adventure in the volcano known as a desert.

A small ping was heard, a black rectangular box coming out of the wall. It read the time by about three fifteen in the afternoon. The seconds ticked by in the most deathly boring method as possible. Not even ticking of the clock.

“A-AlriHHEEHEHEEHEET I-I AMhaahaHAHAhahaHAAHa TicklHEEHeheihEHEhihsh!” Those damn feathers were just too firm and ripe for their own good. Gladio got the most absurd idea he’d ever think in the last 5 years. 

His hips try to hump the air in hopes of grabbing the thing between the skin of his abs and pelvic muscles. Again the machine budged the smallest bit, making the feathers attack little crevices they couldn’t reach to begin with.

6 minutes this went on. The thing stops, Gladio on the verge of becoming a soaked beach whale coming out of the water. His body begins making little finches and twitches. In the back of his mind maybe the machine wasn’t fully functional that false movement would just release his grip without warning.

A black orb with a camera made an appearance with the two tentacles, analyzing the buff man’s waist and legs.

From the floor popped out two mechanical hands on incredibly thin gray arms, snapping to themselves as a warm up for their fingers. Gladio felt it was important not to show any fear, and he had a feeling he knew what was next.

They spider in the air at him and Gladio thinks they’re coming for his six packs and ribs for extra pleasure. “N-Not again you motherfu-fuckers!” He spat the last one out.

It was in vain. He feels his underwear getting tugged on. “WAI-WAI-WAI-WAI WAIT! IF SEX IS WHAT YOU WANTED I COULD HIGHLY-” He blushes furiously at the sudden outburst. To such large beings and off putting clothes, no sense of direction or terms of safety, awful fashion trends…

Gladio didn’t even know where he was going with that. The steel fingers grabbed at the top of his waistband, attempting to tug and pull down to release the last article of clothing for the most intimate part of whatever was happening.

They merely snapped back, spooking Gladio. ‘Please give up, please give up, please give up.’ He pleaded within his mind that nothing else would be done.

The arms tried once more only this time they didn’t hold back their strength. 

***SHHHHHRRRRRRRRRED***

The guardsman of Noctis felt his dignity fly out the window. He sheds a few tears, seeing the fabric and design of the cup noodles get removed from behind his person after the shred began from the top of his body. 

He’ll have to buy a bulk of them if ever escapes from this. 

Out of the tights flopped out his relatively large package. Flaccid, his penis lies… dangles at around 9 inches. The camera bot examined it and confirmed it, noticing the baggage it held right under it. The hanging jewels were about the size of golf balls but heaven only knows if they’d feel the same.

The skin around his dick was a darker tan than the rest of his skin all around but his testicles were on the verg of a mocha gray. Stretchy skin even as the whole package covered the bottom entrance.

Surprisingly, it was kept absolutely clean and shaven. No jungle or a grass bed for it to poke out of, just clean, smooth unharmed skin. That wasn’t the same for the butthole.

Tossing down the torn cloth, the hands dangled in midair themselves like they had a face contemplating about what their next move would be. Much to the big hunk strapped in, he was contemplating another form of bribery.

The word ‘STIMULATION’ in big yellow letters popped out of the little TV’s screen, blinking on and off like it was an ad on a freeway. 

Gladio shook his head, not believing for a second they could make him get off. No dinner, no lights turned out, not even flowers. This was just ridiculous, he screams mentally. He couldn’t even be sure a robot could get him to-

Said cold hands disappeared from his view. Gladio gasps, unsure if they were already about to go for the most indefinite handjob of his entire life.

“Wait where dihIHIHIHIHIHD YOU NOhOOHOHOOHHO AHAHA!” His guffawing becagn once more, the fingers on the steel appendage lightly and with a cold sensual touch, scratch at the scrotum that is his testicles. It’s like he was an open guitar, string anything on him and he’ll sing whatever note comes out.

He jumps following the scratches and teasing, as they bounce and tickle at the fingers constant movements. He snickers in despair, now knowing he was probably going to become a slut toy for these clowns and for who knows how much.

“Tickle tickle big man!” A sleezy voice came up in a microphone. It was through an earbud and Gladio didn’t even see when they put them inside his ears.

Oh, it was just semi big speakers for his ears instead. 

He can’t even snarl again at such a teasing tone, his laughter only being their answer and fuel for the tickling to continue.

Who knows how long this went on, but it wasn’t until the hands began holding his balls in the cusps of their hands did he notice things were going farther south. The palms and fingers began to get hotter and hotter, built in heaters ready to bake and eroticize his ballsack. Gladio continues shaking his head, not wanting to be a part of this anymore.

Not even a pinch could get him out of whatever nightmare he entered. This was proven as he felt his penis begin to slowly arouse from its hidey hood.

The heat placed on his balls only added more pleasure for the cock to press forward and up. Sweat just dropped out of his body like he was a fountain, all his muscles were basking in the artificial light, golden skin and taught muscles.

Thumbs from said hands began massaging his testicles. He lets in a hiss and not wanting to let a moan escape from his mouth. He would have succeeded if his throat didn’t give it away.

It was then the feather brushes, now lying obsolete in the air disappeared back into the ceiling and out dropped more hands. Actual paintbrushes fall down as well, some with firm and brisk brushes, others with carefree hair like feathers.

With the massage still going, the hands and brushes begin their work on his legs. They begin at his open waist already attacking the exposed and buff thighs. Hand poked and brushes went in manhandling him.

“GYAhahAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHA NOHOOHOHOHOOHO!” Some brushes went in towards the penis and balls, scratching at the scrotum and tickling the hood to get the big guy to fully wake up from its warm slumber. Gladio throws his head up from the torture, belief out the window that even being so big he was brought down by this.

The hands began massaging at his thighs earning more jumps from the bara man. “WOHAOAHHAHAHAAHAHA! STOAHAHHAHAAAAHAP!” he screams, a bad tickle spot around the groin.

They weren’t merciful either, going to the top of his thighs pressing and pressing for his tender and lovable laugh. “MAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAAKE IHEEHEHEIEHEHET STOAPAAPPPSHahAHAHHAHA!” Hands moved over his knees, on the verge of breaking the ticklish man.

The softer brushes stay tickling and teasing his penis, the length now completing it’s awakening to around 11 inches. He contracts his muscles as best as he can, trying to win with the power of brute force of man over machine. 

It proves to be futile. It’s as if the beings were controlling an ant farm of hands and brushes of all kinds in the back of that window. Some of them came out with sharp but triangular studded fingers, wriggling at Gladio incessantly.

They scratch and scratch at the beginning of the knees, coming down in little rows towards the treasure mine at the end of said legs. The man couldn’t get past the pokes, prodding and brushing at his groin as his dick now stretches out. His head wasn’t too red, but he knew the semen would begin its phase of dousing it.

He couldn’t tone down his laughter, that’s how ticklish his penis was.

Past all the leg hair did the mini hands and brushes make it to their goal. Hands began their exploration first, sliding their slick little fingers around the lining of his feet. It was like they were hams placed on the table still alive, helpless at the torture.

Feathers come to scratch and tickle his large sole, others under his giant piggies. “WAI-WAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!” They could only wriggle under such fast touches, back and forth with no way to escape. Another death spot, the monitor goes ding. Some of the hands use one finger each, caressing the ever so rough but soft texture of his soles.

Such flat, creamy feet with a few small birthmarks speckled on the nicely curved appendage. 

“ **RAAAFLUSHMA-BOOP!”** **  
** **  
** **“MINEERSA-REMAGHUFLA-MORP!”** Their shuddering voices pierce Gladio’s attention. A sudden hovering of mechanical limbs now begin to work in tandem. Much to his shock, the hands returned back to his rib cage, 6 tough and slick white hands, 3 for each side. 

Brushes with varying three inch sized bristles come swirling in towards his armpits. The sheer horror gracing into the poor man’s body is like lightning, but his hard on remains, wanting to shoot itself high into the sky looking for the tantalizer.

Bulb heads that have 4 like they were flowers hover over his perky nipples, Gladio jumping at the sudden drops of liquid drooping from the small holes in its center.

The color was in a dark blue hue. It felt hot and cold at the same time. 

Gladio didn’t have time to prepare for the now increased tickle torture, brushes invading the hollows of his armpits. “NOHOHOHOHHHOOHHHHOOOOOHHOH!” His tongue comes flailing out of his mouth, probably trying to bite it once more to stop his maniacal laughter from ever escaping.

The flower scooped his nipples into place, a perfect fit. The brown stubs are given some form of brushing with the innards of the carnations. Wheels and wheels of soft but prickly fibers spun and tickled and flicked at the nubs, but were also rotated for maximum pleasure of the prey in their grasp.

Textured hands knead and play at his ribs, getting such a symphony of notes. A lot of pitch when they hit good spots, especially the extra pair under the last set of ribs. 

“AHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHHAAA-AHAAHAAH ST-ST-STOHAHHHAAAHAP!” 

He wails to nothing in particular. It wasn’t until the ceiling dumped heaps of the same blue liquid onto his body that he made the terrible realization. They made his skin become immensely more sensitive with every scratch, and as they squeezed through it seeped further into his muscles making it 10 times worse.

Not even a slow process, just sheets of the substance pounding his body making his voice go up an octave and skin become that of a deep sea octopus. 

Mixing with the sweat, it made him a lot more jumpy aside from the small scratches. Another pair of strong tendrils grip and attack his sides and he guffaws like a madman. He laughs to the point where it becomes silent and take deep disturbed breaths in between.

The heat made his erection point at the window like it would shoot a hidden laser from its hole. 

He couldn’t focus, not with his assault on his body. Couldn’t form a plan, even a scream for help in whatever cave he was meticulously placed in, not even two plus two. Like he did math for a living.

“WAi-WAIHAHAAHAIHAHEEHEEHEEHAT! WHAHAHAHAHT IShEHEHEHEHE THAHAHAHAHAHHAEEEEHAHAHAT!?” He begins shrieking, suddenly feeling a prickly item on his butthole. 

It was a spiked roller activated at its slowest setting, beginning an onslaught of scrubbing to his hairy hole and makeshift taint. He couldn’t believe the thought that the spot can be stimulated just from outside. Tears from little waterfalls down his cheeks, his dark brown mullet matted down and sticking to parts of his face and head. 

The heat growing around his erection is starting to feel maddening, finding that even by this he still can’t ejaculate. The horrible fiends, they’ve devised a perfect torture setting and it can be used on just about anyone. Question is if this has been done to other people?

Gladio shakes and trembles in place, barely nudging from his spot.

Smaller torture fingers began at the muscle around the balls, right at the pubic bone. He wanted to jump and fly as far away from here as possible. This had to be a nightmare or some sort of mind game, but just why isn’t he waking up?

More restraints to his toes, pulling them back like they’d launch something from slingshots. Locked in place the machine beeped, now applying said blue oil to the soles of his humongous feet.

“GRAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAHE HEHEEEEEHEHEEH MER-MERCYEHEHEHEEHEHEHE!” He made an angry like face but with a smile, throat becoming raw and tender from so much laughter. All signs of intimidation not even there to begin with.

Bristled small rollers place themselves between his plush toes, the madness continuing. He worms in place, desperate to fling off any hand or brush from his ribs for air, at least an ounce of oxygen.

Dog brushes come into the scene, his eyes becoming pink and veiny with fear. 2 for each foot making circles. Under and around the toes, the others circulated the balls of his feet and soles. His mind couldn’t register what the time of day was, what his favorite color was, not even if he was in the deeper part of his highness’ castle.

“NYAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAA HAHAHA aHAAHAHAH HAAHAHAHAH!

PLEHEIEHIHIIHEIEHEEEEEAHAHHAHAAHEHEHEHEASE MAYAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHIIIHEEEEEEKE IT STOHAAHAHAHEHEEEEEEEEHAHAAP!

I-I’M LOHOOOHOHOHOHHHOHOHOOOHOSEEIEIHIEHIEHIEHIEENG MYHIHEHIEHIEHE MIHEHEHHEHEHIHIHIEHEEEND!”

It’s like they didn’t hear a word he said. His pleas for the tickling fell on deaf ears, if they had any. Not even a little sympathy to the tears that rushed down his face, or the insurmountable sweat he was dripping decadently from. No crevice from his skin was spared, at least save for the ears.

The monitors to his body grew increasingly red on everything he was sensitive on. Pits, feet, nipples, booty hole. But the greatest amount was always at the one spot they saved for last.

For this, out comes hands armed with little spikes in the palm and fingers. Three end up taking a hold of his shaft, beginning to slowly pump and pump. Gladio’s penis reacts, now in the works of becoming harder and harder until the sweet release. Spikes there tickled horribly too as he finds out.

“GHAHAHAHAAGHAGAHEHEHEEEHEHEEHHAAHAHA NOOAHAHOAHAAOHAHOAHAHHEEEHEHEHHEHAHAHA!!!” He begins flailing like a wild fish, unable to take anymore of this agony.

Another of the appendages comes out, now covering the head with its weapons, polishing the glans and tickling the frenulum under the head.

If he could only move, he’d send continents soaring towards each other at such immense reactions he’s making. Each spike, brush and finger keeps sending him over the edge, the edge of insanity. 

His skin became raw and pink form such abuse, only for it to continue.

The mechanical tendrils began to speed up not only the hand job but as usual the tickling. The ass tickler goes faster on a medium setting, excavating for treasure and grinding onto his sweet spot.

He swears he could see lights beyond the white ones over his head. Like the ones you get when you press on them to rub the sleep out of your eyes. What a pathetic way to die he thinks, his lungs somehow always giving and giving the laughter those floating jesters wanted.

Semen drenched the head, making it worse for him. The spiked hands rub up and down fast and fast and fast. 

“AHAHAHAHEHEHHEEHHEHAHAHAHAHAH GYAHHWEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEHHAHA 

WA-WA-WAHAHAHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH NAHAHAHAHHEHEHEEIEIE!!!  **WOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HEHEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHE AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!**

**OHOHOHOOOHHOHOHOHOOHE HEEHEHEHEEE EHEEHEEEEHEHEE**

**NAHAHAH** **_HAHAHAHSAGHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHEEHEEEHEHEEEEEEH!”_ **

The settings were placed at maximum now, his skin and muscles attacked and tickled to beyond recognition of stimulation for his nerves. A plastic see through bowl pops out of the wall in front, hovering just around the head. The tickling to his swollen purple-red head was too much, like lightning was striking him nonstop.

The hands could only go so fast on his elongated member, as the growing pressure inside becomes unbearable. 

Finally not even 60 seconds after the max settings went into motion, he climaxes. Said hand over the head shot out of the way immediately, Gladio exploding out into said bowl, It went out in large spurts, blobs and blobs of the sperm going in. A small vacuum goes on taking in every drop of his seed.

For a moment the appendages stop, letting Gladio finally take long needed and cool gasps of oxygen into his lungs. The hands continued to milk him dry, small strings coming out still until they were mere drops.

His head droops in defeat, bathed and washed in his own sweat and the blue sensitive oil. Time was non existent, as he found the energy to finally speak. “D… D… Done? G-G-G-Go ho-o-ome pleaheheheeease?” He moans through the milking. His eyes try to find other eyes behind the glass.

About 3 minutes goes, his lungs beginning to have normal rhythmic breaths. Out of nowhere the lights pop on from said glass mirror.

Lifting one eye after another droop, and his head shoots up to see the true culprit behind his tickling torment.

A Mindflayer.  **_A fucking Mindflayer._ ** Of all enemies to even do this to him, ones he had easily beaten in the past for mediocre but necessary experience points. The kraken like thing bopped its head up and down, nodding. 

Gladio could feel his fury return but remembered he had yet to be freed. The thing brings up a hand formed by its tentacles, making the ‘no-no-no!’ motion. Said jesters were off to his sides, hands saluting to their grand master. A random tentacle points down. Gladio couldn’t see it at first, until a part of the floor revealed it.

It was a giant jar, about the size of 3 of Gladio’s head. So wide and long. 

“No… No please, I-I gave you a sample already, I-I can’t  _ possibly fill that entire glass jar!”  _ A tentacle snapped its fingers, and out of nowhere needles with a green substance prods at Gladio’s arms. 

The whirring of the mechanisms began again, making Gladio now fear for his life. He shakes his head, but can feel his vitality and strength already returning to him in mere seconds. For how long he was going to be in this kind of torture he didn’t know.

“GYAHAHAHAHAHA NOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAEHEEEEHEHEHEHEHAHAA!” They were placed at their maximum setting once more. The view to them shuts off, as the Mindflayer takes a giant deep breath.

He returns to his game of chess with Gris and Gres. He’ll be more than happy to create a new, powerful army with all the seed of just one strong warrior at his disposal.


End file.
